


Bean Juice

by Altair_Gavin



Series: House Ravus Coffee Emporium [1]
Category: Octopath Traveler (Video Game)
Genre: Ali and Noa don't have tags???, Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Attempt at Humor, Cyrus is a professor, F/F, F/M, Fluff, Gen, House Ravus is actually a coffee shop, Leon is our favorite cool uncle, M/M, Multi, Therion is a barista but not by choice, erhardt and zeph are more mentioned than actually seen, if there are i will warn at the beginning of the chapter, there shouldn't be any spoilers??????
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-29
Updated: 2018-07-29
Packaged: 2019-06-18 09:49:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,503
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15483081
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Altair_Gavin/pseuds/Altair_Gavin
Summary: House Ravus Coffee Emporium - the most overpriced cafe around, home to a quirky cast of employees. Whether it's Tressa and Ali's antics of forever trying to obtain the title of employee of the month, or Alfyn and Ophilia trying to coax out Therion's reasons for working somewhere he clearly hates.





	1. Vanilla Bean

**Author's Note:**

> Big shout-out to the fam for helping develop this gem of an au and supporting me along the way <3 (Y'all know who you are, so I won't publicly embarrass you (this time)) Without further ado, here's the first chapter of Bean Juice!

“Get me my usual, Alfyn,” Therion says, leaning up against the counter of House Ravus, a (more than a little) overpriced cafe on the richer side of town.

“Anything for you, pal.” Alfyn grins while he gets to work on his friend’s drink, not bothering with collecting any sort of fee. (If Tressa saw it, she’d have a fit, but Alfyn has always liked spoiling his friends where he can, even if it was only a drink.) “And here it is! Black as your soul, as you like it.”

Therion rolls his eyes and takes the vanilla frappe with a smiley face scrawled on the side instead of a name and takes a sip. Yep, still not worth the price on the board, but since he hardly ever pays he doesn’t bother complaining.

“You know, I think you would actually like it black if you gave something other than instant coffee a shot,” Alfyn says. “It can be pretty amazing how different kinds of roasts and where it comes from can change the taste.”

“Yeah, like I’m ever going to waste six dollars to drink bean juice,” the shorter man scoffs.

“You never even pay when you come here, Therion,” Tressa glares at him after all the customers have left the counter. 

Therion shrugs. “Just not really interested in finding out how many ways beans can taste bad.”

“Vanilla is a bean,” Alfyn helpfully points out.

“Okay, but that’s different. And nobody’s trying to get me to drink vanilla pressed water,” he says with a raised eyebrow.

“Well, you start working tomorrow, so I would get over it if I were you,” Tressa huffs, arms crossed. “We can’t have you scaring off any of my hard earned customers.”

“Isn’t Ali still leading in the count of who’s gotten more regulars?” the white haired man asks innocently.

“He’s been working here longer than I have!” she snips. 

“Now, now, Theresa, I don’t need to hear your excuses,” Therion smiles slyly.

Tressa stabs a finger at her chest. “I’m wearing. A nametag. And I don’t need to make excuses, because I’m going to be pulling ahead any time now. This one guy - I think he’s a college professor? - shook my hand for my excellent customer service skills earlier today.”

“Congrats, a handshake is basically a signed contract that he’ll be here every morning from now on,” he drawls.

“Come on, Therion, let Tress be excited. Besides, he mentioned on his way out that he’d tell his students about here.” Alfyn pauses for a moment, thoughtful. “He was pretty good looking, too, so it wouldn’t hurt if people saw a guy like him hanging around.”

“Exactly! Our sales got better once Primrose started coming more regularly, so if we keep drawing in more people like that it’ll become a local hangout in no time!” Tressa puts her hands on her hips with a look of victory in her eyes. “Let’s see Ali beat that.”

Alfyn ruffles her hair with a soft look in his eye. “Just make sure the two of you don’t get too caught up in your little contest, yeah? I’m heading out early today to meet up with Zeph so Ali’ll be with you until close. Try not to freak out any customers, ‘kay?”

“It’ll be fine, but what’s going on with you and Mr. Roses?” She wiggles her eyebrows.

The taller man blushes, remembering how his childhood friend (now boyfriend) brought him dozens of roses of every color imaginable at work to celebrate his birthday. “Aw, shucks, Tress, you’re gonna make me blush.”

“Too late for that,” Therion snorts. “Well, if you’re leaving soon, I might as well head back home to enjoy the last night of freedom I’ll have before employment.”

“Have fun!” Alfyn calls as the soon-to-be newest employee of House Ravus steps out the door, bean juice infused drink in hand, even if it was just vanilla.


	2. Beaneficial Beginnings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Therion's first day as an employee at House Ravus

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey! Thanks for reading and reviewing the first chapter, this one is about three times as long, I think? Either way, I hope you continue to enjoy the story as much as I continue writing it :)  
> Cast list for this chapter (in order of appearance):  
> Therion  
> Alfyn  
> Heathcote  
> Ali  
> Tressa  
> Olberic  
> Ophilia  
> H'aanit

Therion hates mornings.

Scratch that - Therion loathes them with a vengeance.

“How the hell do you do this every day?” he grumbles, slumping into the coffee shop before hours.

Alfyn chuckles. “You’re forgetting that I lived on a farm growing up. It gets easier the more you do it, though.”

“I was beginning to wonder if you were ever going to show, Mr. Therion,” Heathcote says, appearing from the stockroom. “But it appears you have, and on time no less.”

“Don’t get too excited, old man, I didn’t exactly have a choice with that video footage you have,” the exhausted man scowls, straightening up. “So, am I supposed to have a uniform or something?”

The older man holds out a precisely folded black collared shirt and a red apron. “If you would change in the restroom, I think you’ll find they’ll fit correctly.”

Therion considers stripping right there to spite him, but remembering the scars he’d rather not explain to his employer of all people, does as he says.

“Ah, marvelous. Now, Mr. Greengrass will show you the basics before we open, that way if there are any more incidents such as-”

“Don’t you have a job to be doing?” the shorter man demands, glaring through the heat rising to his face.

Heathcote smiles slightly, but nods. “I’ll leave the two of you to it, then. Good luck.”

“I won’t need luck,” Therion says under his breath.

“I was offering it to the delightful young man stuck with instructing you, but if you insist on having no luck, by all means,” the owner says before heading off elsewhere.

“How do you put up with him as your boss?” he asks his friend.

Alfyn laughs. “He’s only that way to you, you know. He’s a perfect gentleman otherwise, even when dealing with difficult customers and bad profits.”

“Of course he is.”

“So,” he clears his throat. “What’s the reason you’re starting up here anyway?” “Heathcote didn’t tell you guys already?” Therion asks. “No, why would he? I just thought it was strange that you’d choose here of all places to pick up a job.”

He shrugs. “Oh, well, it’s not really a big deal or anything. I just. . .” Therion thinks for moment. “I just dumped coffee all over this guy for saying that my scarf was dumb and purple wasn’t my color. Heathcote calmed the guy down and said he wouldn’t get me in trouble if I worked for him.”

“Therion, that’s a little extreme of a reaction, even for you.” Alfyn frowns, almost looking disappointed. “You really seemed to be getting better at watching your temper lately.”

The white haired man wishes that he could say the sad look in his friend’s eyes didn’t bother him at all, but that would be a blatant lie. However, he’d take disappointment over whatever reaction Alfyn might have to the true story of how he ended up in this apron at this unholy hour.

“Well, anyway, we gotta get to work or Heathcote’ll have our heads for sure,” he says, brightening back up. “You’ll pick it up in no time, I’m sure of it. Oh, but first we'll need to get your hair back out of your face.” He pulls out a long clip. "Ya know, for health code regulations and all that. Do you want me to get it for you?"

Therion sighs. "Just get it over with."

* * *

 

As it turns out, ‘no time’ might as well mean three millennia as far as Therion’s training goes.

“You don’t - no - Therion, you’re going to break it,” Alfyn winced as his friend (unsuccessfully) attempted to get a simple order of a double shot of espresso ready.

Again.

Therion scowls at the machine. “I’m pretty sure this thing is cursed.”

“Pretty sure it’s just you,” Ali chimes in, absently placing a hand on his shoulder.

“The rest of us get it to work just fine, even Greenpea over here got the hang of it after a try or two.”

“First of all.” The shorter man glares. “I’d move that hand if I wanted it to stay attached to my wrist. Second of all, this thing just won’t work.”

Ali puts up his hands in surrender. “Hey, if even Alfyn can’t teach you on one of our smoothest running machines, you’ve got to be the issue. Why don’t you try running the register instead?”

“He’s not getting anywhere near the register,” Tressa says. “Heathcote says he’s not allowed to even be behind the counter unsupervised. Not that I blame him.”

“That stings, Thumbelina.” Therion rolls his eyes. “Why are you here, anyway? You’re not on the schedule.”

“I'm going to let that go because clearly you're either illiterate or dumb. Phili asked me if I could be around for a bit this morning. Something about a family thing, I think?” she furrows her brow in concentration. “Besides, we’ve got a betting pool going on how long it will take you to snap at someone, and I don’t trust Ali not to make something up for a couple of extra bucks.”

“Aw, Greenpea, I’m completely honest when it comes down to business, you know that,” the younger man complained. “And not just honestly better than you, either.”

“Ali, I swear-” the bell on the door rings and Tressa seamlessly transitions into a smile fit to put an angel to shame. “Welcome to House Ravus Coffee Emporium, where your favorite treats are our greatest treasure. How can I help you?”

The bulky man scratches the back of his neck. “I’m not too familiar with this place, but I’ve noticed a friend of mine mention it more than a few times. I was going to surprise him, but it seems I forgot to check what he gets.”

“Oh? Is he a regular, then?” she asks, getting up on her toes to rest her forearms on the glossy, dark wood counter.

“I suppose he is.” The man scratches his chin. “His name is Erhardt-”

“Why didn’t you just say so? He gets a medium cinnamon latte with a double shot of espresso and a blueberry scone, if we have them fresh, which we happen to have this morning!” Tressa snaps up, clapping her hands together, her grin becoming more genuine.

While Therion would never say it out loud, he’s always known that she’s got a weird knack for things like memorizing orders. He’s tested it more than once without her knowing, and she’s never failed even on the far more intricate ones.

The girl notices the surprise on the man’s face, even if it was only evident by slightly raised eyebrows and immediately takes her enthusiasm down a notch or two for his sake. “Mr. Erhardt is the owner of where my friend Noa works, and he always takes the time to have a little chat when he stops by,” Tressa explains. “Besides, here at house Ravus, the customers are our real greatest treasure, no matter what our slogan says.”

The man finds a gleam in his eye as he orders what Tressa remembered to be his friend's favorite and she got to work getting it ready for him.

Ophilia scurries into the shop. “Sorry that I’m running late, everyone, Lianna had some unexpected trouble with her car and I had to pick her up around midnight.” Once she’s safely behind the counter, she slips her blue apron on that signifies her as the manager. “My, Tressa, have you won a new customer over already? The morning has hardly begun!”

“Of course Tress has, she’s cute as a button and ruthless to boot.” Alfyn grins, laying a hand on Ophilia shoulder after ruffling Tressa’s hair. “And no need to be flustered, Phili, everyone’s got rough patches from time to time. I’m sure Tress here didn’t mind getting some more hours in, either.”

The shorter girl pouts momentarily, fixing back up her hair. “Yeah, it’s no biggie, Phili,” she assures with a thumbs up. “You’ve covered more than a few shifts for me, so it’s the least I can do.”

“It’s not only so you can keep up with your competition?” the older woman smiles, some of the tension leaving her shoulders as a gentle, teasing edge finds a way into her words.

“Pfft, no. As if I’d wanna spend more time around him.”

“Ya know, Greenpea, with Therion around it’s a little harder to tell who you’re trying to insult when you just say ‘him,’” Ali points out.

“Here’s your order, sir.” Tressa hands the man a little paper baggie with the scone and a hot drink, ignoring her rivals of sorts. “Hope you have a good day, say hello to Mr. Erhardt for me!”

“Thank you, young lady, and a good day to you as well.” The man gives her a nod and heads out the door, holding it open for the gorgeous and sculpted woman on her way in.

The woman raises an eyebrow at the new employee. “It is unusual to see you behind the counter, Therion. Have you decided to try your hand at honest work?”

“Oh, H’aanit, it's wonderful to see you.” Ophilia pushes the hair from her face and smooths her apron, red dusting the tips of her ears. “Heathcote hired him to make up for the incident with the garbage disposal-”

“Are you trying to imply that I've ever been anything but an honest, hard working, productive member of society?” Therion quickly cuts the blonde off. “I'm wounded.”

“Then perhaps you would be slow to break so many rules, as any implications against your good name are clearly unwelcome,” the powerful woman says, attention shifting to the manager. “Ophilia, it is wonderful to see you as well.”

“Is there anything I can do for you?” she offers.

H’aanit blinks, a color similar to Ophilia’s ears spreading across her cheeks. “I am afraid I. . . I do not recall what I wanted to order, forgive me. Simply seeing you is treat enough.”

Tressa opens her mouth to recite H’aanit’s usual, no doubt, but a knowing smile and a look from Alfyn is all it takes to keep the girl from speaking.

“But you can’t just leave here empty handed! Do we have any pastries that are particularly fresh this morning? Ah, yes, it’s Thursday and that means blueberry scones.” The blonde stumbles through picking

up the scone with the tongs and placing it in its paper sleeve to hand to the older woman. “Please, take this.”

H’aanit reaches for her wallet.

Ophilia interrupts, nearly dropping the pastry. “No! I- it’s on- it’s on the house. For your loyal patronage.”

Both women flush deeper as 

H’aanit accepts the kind woman’s gift and excuses herself. 

Once their customers are gone and the door is shut, Ophilia stares at her hands, face now a glowing red. “She. . . she brushed my hand when she picked up the bag.”

Alfyn and Tressa’s grins split open wide as the man puts a comforting hand on his manager’s shoulder, simply shaking his head.

Therion rolls his eyes, and gets back to trying to defeat the basics of making even one of House Ravus’s drinks.

 


End file.
